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Loren was glaring at him. “I’d really like to hear that story.”

“There were p-people that wanted me dead. Lots of people. I c-couldn’t risk your life. So, your mother and I decided it was best to let you go, at least until we could get everything sorted out.”

“Where is she?” Loren’s jaw was clenched. “My mother?”

Erasmus and Cyra exchanged a glance. It was Cyra who said, “She passed away years ago.”

Loren shoved a carrot to the side of her plate. It took her a few seconds before she was able to look at Erasmus and Cyra again. “What was her name?”

The answer came from both of them. “Helia.”

Loren grabbed her glass and took a long swig of chardonnay, eyes watering as she gulped it down. Holding the last swallow in her mouth, she set down the glass, a look of concentration on her face as she likely debated what to say next.

Finally, she swallowed…looked up at Erasmus. “I was told that you created me by using a piece of your own aura. If I have a mother, that means she must’ve had a part in creating me too.”

Erasmus’s chair creaked as he adjusted his position. “Roark and Taega believe I’m dead, and I would l-like to keep it that way,” he said, entirely ignoring her question. “At least for now.”

Loren’s brows shot up. “So we’re going to play games, are we? You choose which questions you answer, and ignore the ones you don’t want to acknowledge?”

Erasmus had nothing to say.

“How do I have the Well powers?” There was a stumble in her heartbeat that put Darien on high alert, hand curling into a fist on the table, knuckles digging into the pristine white cloth. Loren’s jaw flexed, her heart tripping over another beat. “Can you answer that one?”

“Y-you inherited them,” Erasmus said, “like people inherit genes.”

“Where is the real Well? Does it still exist?”

“Loren—” Erasmus tried.

“Why are you avoiding answering pretty much every question I’ve asked? You sought me out, invited me for dinner, and you expect me not to ask for an explanation after I spent almost two decades believing that you were dead, and after being chased down by people in the city because I suddenly had magic I never even knew I had?”

Darien leaned forward in his seat. “Alright, let’s cool down for a minute.” He jerked his chin at Loren’s forearm. “Eat. Your tattoo.” The serpent-entwined rod was glowing red, and her heart was racing so fast, it made Darien’s race, too.

She speared a carrot, dunked it in mashed potatoes, and popped it into her mouth, chewing quickly.

Erasmus rubbed his chin, his focus on his daughter’s tattoo. “How l-long has that been happening?”

“Her whole life,” Darien replied icily. “If you’d been around for any of it, you would know that.” Now, it was his turn to be pissed. Loren was staring at her plate, eating slowly, her face flushed. Her eyes were shimmering, and Darien knew that if her mouth wasn’t busy chewing, it would likely be wobbling from emotion.

He hated seeing her upset. He fucking hated it more than anything in the world. It made him want to rip out hearts and crack open skulls and burn entire buildings to the ground.

“I want to thank you.” Erasmus was speaking to him now. “For keeping her safe.”

“No one else was going to do it, were they?” He looked at Loren, whose eyes were still on her plate. His voice softened as he added, “But it’s been my absolute pleasure.”

“Why did you pick him?” Loren speared another carrot and swirled it in gravy.

“It was my idea,” Cyra said. “We needed you found and hidden as fast as possible, so we hired the best person for the job.”

“I could’ve killed her.” The words were out of Darien’s mouth before he realized what he was saying.

Loren looked up, her fork stilling.

“We t-trusted that you wouldn’t,” Erasmus said gently. “And we trusted that the other people who were after her wouldn’t be able to get through you if they tried.”

When Darien blinked, the room plunged into darkness and glowing colors. “That’s a lot of faith to put in a stranger.” He blinked again, and it went away. But that familiar crawling sensation lingered beneath his skin, and he knew he only had so much time left.

“And l-look at you now,” Erasmus said smugly, a faint smile on his mouth—a smile so similar to Loren’s. “I’d say our assumptions about you were correct. The safest place for her is with you.”